Twelve
The look on his face said it all.
He ran; hard and fast next to the trolley, never letting go of that hand.
He could feel it tighten every now and then and Darman would squeeze it back, just to remind him that he wasn't going anywhere.
Not now.
Not ever.
All he had to do was keep a tight grip and hold on.
For dear life.
Niner just focussed on his best friends face.
He had watched helpless as it all went terribly wrong, the irony being that Etain was killed by one of her own, protecting one of theirs.
Somewhere the wires had got crossed. Somehow, the message had missed it's mark.
Why hadn't she just done as she was ordered?
It didn't matter now.
How many times had they improvised during an extraction?
Its what we do for feks sake!
But this time, nothing they could have done would have changed the outcome.
Niner was furious that Darman had stayed with him when there had been a chance to get away.
This now all lay on his weary shoulders.
Darman had made a split decision to stay, when he could have gone.
All the planning had been for nothing.
She may have been a Jedi, but more importantly Etain was a wife, mother and trusted friend to them all; her light now extinguished forever.
As Niner pushed through the emotional and physical pain, he continued to squeeze Darman's fingers until they stopped outside the medical facilities emergency doors.
"Sir. You can't continue through."
That's when Niner saw it, the flash of panic and desperation flicker across Darman's face.
But as quickly as it was shown it was neatly tucked back inside.
Niner had seen it though.
Darman had acknowledged his reality even if it were for the briefest of seconds.
Then the heat from the pain in his back as the repulsor stretcher jolted forward through the ominous doors.
Niner made a muffled cry as his fingers were pulled from Darman's at the very last second, their brown eyes conveying everything there was no time left to say.
Whatever happened from this point forward was out of his control.
Here we go again.
.
Niner glided down the corridor as the staff talked around him, over him - but never to him.
He should have known better.
Niner knew the drill.
His fate lay with the bean counters.
A Republic commodity that was broken and in desperate need of repair.
Was he a worthy investment?
They've had their credits worth outta me over the years.
As he lay there and stared at the ceiling lights, his thoughts couldn't erase the image of his own eyes boring down on him.
.
"Bottom line it gentlemen," she said as she waited for the stretcher to stop and be locked.
"SCI. He fell from a bridge apparently. Responsive to stimuli. Vitals are sable after 2 hypos of Morpha."
"OK, let's get him undressed," then she muttered, "interesting armour. Who is he anyway?"
The med droid ran a scanner over his arm, "RC-1309."
The doctor rose a perfectly coiffed eyebrow. It was obvious to her he wasn't the same as the other soldier she had just finished treating.
The team moved quickly; carefully removing his armour and cutting away his bodysuit with military precision.
Even his black undershorts were removed. By this point, Niner would normally disappear into the drug induced haze only to re-emerge out of the bacta alive and grateful of it.
Something was wrong this time, things were different.
This wasn't the usual blaster burn or broken bones; there was an air of uncertainty enveloping him, beginning with the female medico.
What the fek is going on here?
"I need chest and pelvic films and a full trauma panel."
"Copy that ma'am."
He was deliberately kept awake, and it frightened him.
Keep your osik together, just breathe through it.
Niner let out a controlled breath, he knew why; they needed to assess him before he was knocked out cold.
Lying naked on the gurney with his head strapped tight he groaned with disdain when the word catheter was mentioned and winced as he felt the discomfort associated with the fine wire being inserted.
That's a good sign right?
The flame haired doctor then leaned forward and moved the stethoscope from around her neck and placed it gently on his chest to listen. Niner was aware of her scent as it wafted over him, distracting him momentarily.
"Ma'am?"
She straightened and looked at the man, "yes?"
"I'm cold," he said feeling instantly embarrassed he had mentioned it.
She had to think fast, "where exactly?" Difficulties with temperature regulation was a sign of spinal cord damage.
"All over, you know? I'm kinda hanging out there." It was awkward, but she seemed to get the message.
She turned quickly and placed a small sterile towel from the trauma trolley over his groin.
"Thank you," Niner breathed.
He didn't know why it was so important to him at that moment. He had been through a gambit of emotions all in the space of three hours, but right then, misguided modesty had got the better of him.
He then closed his eyes and waited.
He had heard the hand over medic.
SCI.
She continued to perform a variety of tests, all silently as they waited for the reports to come back.
"Are you experiencing any difficulty breathing?"
"No."
"Tell me if you can feel this," she stated as she ran her nail down the length of his thigh.
"Ye -" Niner cleared his throat, "yes."
"And this?"
"Yes."
"OK, can you wiggle your toes for me?"
Niner waved his right toes then tried his left. They moved, but were not as responsive.
"Any pain?"
"Yes," he grunted out. A worried look crossed his eyes and she looked straight into them.
"That's alright. Just rest a minute and we'll - "
"Ma'am. We have the results from the preliminary scans."
Everyone appeared to hold their collective breath.
She held out her hand for the data pad and read the report. Niner could hear his heart pulsing through his ears and even the 2-1B seemed anxious for her to reveal the findings.
"You have a hair line fracture of lumbar vertebrae 4 and 5. We'll manage you in ICU Bacta for 48 hours and then we'll be able to assess your ROM."
Niner continued to stare at the ceiling.
"ROM?"
"Range of Movement."
Silence; there it was.
The reality of Shinarcan bridge.
The reality of surviving.
"Thank you," he said, but his thoughts had already moved on to another.
One, who no amount of bacta could fix.
Darman.
.
"Jakline! Wait up?"
Dr Jakline Termonen stopped. She had just made her second diagnosis as a qualified doctor.
"That was a good call."
"The results speak for themselves. With time in bacta and physical therapy he should make a full recovery. Now, if there is nothing else?"
It was clear by her tone that there definitely wasn't.
The clone medic stopped and stood to attention.
"No ma'am."
"Good. Keep me posted of his condition."
She then turned and continued down the corridor, her slender heels echoing slightly as she swung into the female refresher. Making her way into a cubicle she fumbled as he locked the door before she expelled the contents of her stomach into the ceramic bowl. As she was breathing hard into the basin, her pager sounded.
It was trial by fire.
The Republic Commando 1309 took her patient quota up to two.
'Emergency Room 6 A-SAP'
Now it was time for lucky number three…
.
Niner might have slept, but he never rested. His dreams haunted by the vision of Etain and all the confusion on that bridge.
He was aware of someone moving around behind him just before he caught the scent.
It was her; the young red haired doctor he saw seven hours earlier.
Not that he had been counting.
"It's only me," she stated as she moved around and sat in the chair next to him. It had been a particularly long shift for the young doctor.
Number three hadn't been so lucky after all and her success rate for the day was at a demoralising 66.6%
She smiled automatically before she began reading the medical notes. Niner liked her, she seemed earnest, in a comforting way. Slender, pretty he thought and young, with interesting gold coloured eyes, the likes of which he had never seen before. She sat there, chewing the inside of her mouth as she flipped through the flimsies and the laboratory numbers.
"Everything seems to be progressing nicely. How are you doing?"
"Thirsty," he said with a dry voice.
"You can have some ice chips," she said as she nodded to a medic and returned to reading his medical record. "This is promising RC-1309."
"Niner."
"Pardon?"
"Name is Niner."
"Oh, well Niner, the small amount of swelling to the spinal cord caused by the fractures appears to have reduced, partly due to the bacta of course but I foresee a -"
"You said fracture, no one said anything about my spinal cord." His heart rate immediately rose and Jakline stood and turned down the monitor.
It was 0200.
"Easy. You're doing ok. Here, open your mouth," she said as she placed some ice chips in. Jakline watched as he savoured the feeling.
To Niner, this was worse than being knocked out and floating like an adult foetus in the chambers. It was the first time he had been in one of the horizontal ICU tanks, strapped down with his head poking out, it felt wrong.
"I'll be back later in the morning OK."
His eyes followed her for a moment before he spoke.
"Can I have something to help me sleep?"
"Of course," she said more gently and automatically reached out and touched his forehead. Niner closed his eyes momentarily before she retracted her hand, "I need 5 milligrams of IV Somaprin."
The medic moved quickly to the drug cabinet and began measuring out a dose of sedative. Niner listened to the soft tinkling of her heels as she left the ward before finally falling into a restful sleep.
.
